Milk White and the Seven Thingamajiggers
by rhygell
Summary: Slam Dunk people in Midgard living out the story of Snow White? Confusing? But of course! Rukawa Kaede starring as Milk White. Thingamajiggers is the term for the undefinable. :D You'd never think of Snow White the same way ever again. [YAOI]
1. Milk White and the Seven Thingamajiggers

**Title:** Milk White and the Seven Thingamajiggers (1/3)

**Genre: **Fantasy/Comedy/Romance?

**Rating: **For children at least 10 years old and above. Ehm … come to think about it … no, this is for people no younger than 13, and those who approve of yaoi.

**Disclaimer: **Slam Dunk belongs to Inoue Takehiko. Snow White is a story that I can borrow without infringing anything, right? Ragnarok (the online RPG) is not mine, and damn, I don't play anymore. So there.

**Notes: **I conceived of this idea long just a few months after I learned about Ragnarok (which would be October, I guess, 2003.Yeah, the idea is _that_ old.) I should have finished this sooner, but school's an even bigger bitch than I am, so … oh well. Warning: this is full of puns only my friends and me can understand. I do hope I kept them IC, but if I haven't … Gomen, gomen.

**Summary: **Slam Dunk people living out Snow White's story in Midgard. Confusing? Hell, yes.

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a young man, with warm bespectacled brown eyes and chocolate hair. He was very kind, gentle, helpful, and smart. All the people loved him. His name was Kogure Kiminobu, and he was the son of the Viscount of their land.

At that time, the Crown Prince of the realm, his Majesty Mitsui Hisashi fell in love with him, hard. He wooed the Viscount's son almost to the point of harassment; his feelings were sincere, he was only too persistent. Kogure, with a shy smile and after six months of courting, finally agreed to an intimate relationship.

They had been lovers for a year when the Prince Mitsui proposed. The populace almost went mad in indignity when the brash Prince really did marry Kogure. Prince Hisashi must secure the throne with an heir. Even the Old King, fond as he was of his favorite son's lover, was steadfast.

It posed as a problem, since Hisashi didn't want to produce an heir out of wedlock. However, of all the four siblings, he was the only one fit for the throne, so he had grudgingly agreed to his parents' advice.

The Crown Prince told his predicament to his Prince Consort, stressing that he would not want to be with anyone else, for the sake of the throne or no. And so, with great reluctance, the brown-eyed aristocrat revealed that he knew magic, a great and terrible enchantment, which would let him transform into a woman in a span of two years. Mitsui was ecstatic. They wasted no more time, and, true enough, Kogure's body became that of a woman. The Kingdom then had no complaints, and they were left undisturbed.

Aware of the implications of the spell, the Court waited in bated breath as, one day, almost ten months after the spell was performed, during a particularly harsh winter, Kiminobu's birthing screams echoed throughout the Castle.

Hisashi was no longer the Crown Prince; by then, he was the King of his realm, and he was busily chewing his lip, running his hands through his hair, and pacing in a spacious hall, mad with anxiety. The cries from the labor chamber were hair-raising. He stopped walking, suddenly, when a new cry swept away the exhausted outbursts of his 'wife'. It could only mean one thing: that he was a father, and the throne had been secured for yet another generation.

The baby was named Kaede, after the tree that Kogure so loved while he was pregnant. The boy (the royal advisers noted with relief) had the jet-black hair and azure eyes of the King, and he had the delicate beauty of the 'Queen'. Everyone affectionately called Kaede 'Milk White', because of his pale skin.

To spite and nettle the traditionalists in his liege, Hisashi dubbed his son, 'Rose Princess', which would have been the title of Kaede's eldest sister, if he'd ever have one, or any woman successor to the throne after the Princes. The sensational news made the critics do more than raise eyebrows, but the King's steadfastness and charisma immediately quelled the reluctance and rebellion of the somewhat traditional peers.

A few years passed by, idyll. Milk White was then a totting kid with a teddy bear when disaster struck the Kingdom. The people were racked with a plague of sorts; those afflicted suffer high fever in addition to insomnia, ranting nonstop for hours – even weeks, and suddenly died as soon as they manage to fall asleep. They do not know how the blight was passed on, and so, it took almost an tenth of the population of the realm.

One of these unfortunates was the 'Queen' Kiminobu (who had reverted to his original gender a few years back). Another was Hasegawa Kazushi. He was a Knight of Heaven, an elite force whose sole purpose was guarding the lives of Royal Lineage. Hasegawa in particular had been one of King Hisashi's dearest friends and close companion.

The 'Queen' held out the longest among all of the afflicted; his throat was raw and his voice was hoarse from screaming and raving for five straight days. Even in his delirium, though, he had not forgotten about his son, or his husband. And so, before passing away, Kogure had made one of his ladies-in-waiting, Fuuji, take care of Milk White, and advise the King as he would have. She swore she would, and that was when the 'Queen' closed his eyes to sleep forever.

In due time, the realm was delivered from the plague by a coven of masked magicians. To methods unbeknownst to the masses and nobles alike, they rid the land of the malicious magic. In exchange, they only asked refuge for their kind, which was immediately granted.

The Kingdom, though it regained its former splendor, was never the same again. Even though the King did not let the catastrophe ruin his reign, he nonetheless mourned, spending at least an hour in the ice grave, where the deceased Queen was preserved, frozen, forever. Milk White ceased to be the smilingly cheerful kid he had been; he began to be known as Ice Prince; it had been said that he became so much the arctic prison of his 'mother's' mausoleum.

But something worse was to happen. A strong magic, to counter the enchantment performed by the well-meaning magicians, was unleashed. It trapped the wandering soul of the Knight Hasegawa, who had been pining after the King, and warped the will into an evil entity. This ominous spirit resided in a shield in the battlements of the Castle, moving inexorably towards the King, until it became trapped in a bewitched hand mirror that the 'Queen' once owned.

When Fuuji saw that the King was breaking down inside and slowly wasting away in spirit, she sought to fulfill her promise to her liege. Knowledgeable in the arts of sorcery herself, she tried to contact the spirit of the demised 'Queen', to try to coax it to appear in a vision for the King. She would have succeeded, had the mirror remained an unoccupied vessel. For when she found the mirror, she became bound to the spirit trapped within it. With one glance, the loyal Fuuji became malevolent, her soul consumed and twisted as Hasegawa's soul was distorted.

Fuuji, now harboring and infected with the evil that possessed Hasegawa, strove to seduce the King into marrying her. Hisashi was then vulnerable, so it was only a matter of time before she succeeded. The spirit in the mirror advised her to send the King on trips that would take him away for several years, and to acquire more land for colonization. And slowly, as the years went by, as the King's free will deteriorated, the malicious attention was turned hungrily to the only legitimate heir to the throne, if ever anything should happen to the King: Ice Prince.

Milk White was utterly captivating. A marble statue glazed in ice, he was, his inborn beauty all the more enhanced by his glacial features. True to his looks, he was distant, aloof, and chose to spend his time alone. He was no longer the open and jovial child before his 'mother' had been taken away from him. Yet, all the people loved him still, for although he remained remote, he was sympathetic to the needs of his subjects. He was fair and just, and an obedient son, even showing military aptitude at such a young age. The new Queen hated him for it.

When Milk White saw his eighteenth winter, Queen Fuuji found out about a young and handsome Princeling, one of the many Prince Charming scattered throughout the world, with a large Kingdom. The said nobility was looking for a bride. At once, the Queen thought of a design as to how she would secure the Kingdom she had and the Kingdom she will have when she discards Mitsui for the younger Prince.

Being the vain person that she was turned into, Queen Fuuji held the mirror, in the seclusion of her chambers, and whispered.

"Mirror, mirror, in my hand. Who's the fairest in the land?"

Hasegawa's face floated to the surface. "My Queen, no one can compare, young Milk White is the most fair. Though if the dead be included in the deliberation, Kogure, before his son, would surely win without competition."

"Nani!" she exclaimed, almost hurling the bejeweled accessory to the hard, elaborate bed post. She took deep breaths to calm herself, thinking of a probable solution. After a few minutes, there came a knock on her door.

"Come in," the Queen said irritably. She turned the mirror face down the table and sat facing the kneeled figure in front of her. How the young Knight resembled her husband, King Mitsui, who was on a distant Kingdom to talk about stupid things like world peace. She had hoped the trip would kill him, but that could be arranged for later. She had more urgent matters at the moment, like her body massage and getting rid of Milk White.

"You summoned me, Your Highness?"

"Yes, _Captain_. I have work for you. That is, if you want to redeem yourself and reenter the service of your King." Queen Fuuji smiled wickedly, laughing to herself as she imagined the scene in her head. "Retiring from the Knights of Heaven to a small farm is not betrayal, _Captain_," she emphasized the title.

"What are your orders, Your Highness?"

Fuuji frowned at the man. He usually was more volatile than this. Why he would continue supporting the puppet King was beyond her. She remembered her plan, and smiled. She could use that loyalty.

"I want you to kill the Crown Prince this afternoon."

Because of the bowed head, the monarch did not see the gritted teeth or the frown. Seconds ticked by. "Well, Captain?"

"As you command, Your Highness."

"I want his eyes, and his heart, and his brain, do you understand? Present it to me bloody and raw in a silver platter. Leave his body for the wolves. I want him dead, or you will be."

"Yes, Your Highness, I will obey as you command." He stood up, a sick feeling in his stomach, and left he chambers, the Queen's soft, evil laughter haunting him.

May Inari give him courage to do what needs to be done.

"Run away, Kaede-sama. Fast."

Milk White raised a cool eyebrow at the serious face the Captain of the Knights of Heaven was presenting him. He was running a hand through his black hair, muttering to himself, looking constipated and angry at the same time.

"The Queen wants you dead, both you and your father, the King. She ordered me to … to kill you. This is the reason why I brought you here in the woods. But I serve the King, and not the usurper. So run, Kaede-sama, and don't look back."

There was no indication of emotion in the Prince, but he did nod, and started off to the dense forestry. He glanced hesitantly at the Castle looming over in the distance, before walking calmly into the deeper growth of trees.

"Chotto matte," the Capain called, "Kaede-sama. Don't stop until you find a house, a small house. That would be well over the borders of the Kingdom. You can take refuge there. The house …" he paused, rather reluctant. "It's where the Kanagawa Guild resides. They will take you in. Please." He stared back at the glacial blue depths. He showed the Prince a Talisman of Bone. "This will protect you from the forest, but if you provoke its inhabitants … Be careful, Kaede-sama. Remember; don't tell anyone your name. You are the Crown Prince," and with a slight smile, added, "and the Rose Princess. Our hope rests upon you. You must be vigilant." He saluted. "Sayonara."

"Arigato, Koshino-san." Without any more questions, Milk White did as he was asked, to escape the wrath of the Queen unscathed and safe.

Meanwhile, Koshino hunted a fox with blue eyes, and from it, got the things required from him by the Queen. He buried the corpse properly, praying to Inari that he may be forgiven to the desecration. It was all to protect his chosen one, after all. At that thought, Koshino smiled to himself. If, after, he would get the chance, he would tally the score with his cousin.

The Prince wandered for days, sustaining himself with the nuts and berries he can pick from around him and water from the clear bubbling brook that winded steadily down by his path. By the time that he had reached the place Koshino had tipped him about, his clothing were in tatters, and he was exhausted beyond imagination; his pauses for sleep and rest were at bare minimum, an astonishing feat considering that the Prince's favorite and only hobby was sleeping. To sum it up, he looked positively dreadful, and dead at his feet, he almost had to crawl to the front door of the modest brick cottage to knock.

The door opened promptly, and only then did he allow himself to collapse and let the fatigue overcome him and claim him completely.

He was in a semi-coma of a week before he woke up.

Somberly relieved faces stared back at him. The occupants of the house, it seemed, were all worried about the stranger whom they had no clue of, and who had been sleeping undisturbed for a duration of seven straight days.

"Didn't I tell you?" Austere face gently reprimanding, sable hair and dark eyes bespectacled, bringing to his mind the image of his late 'mother' immediately, the person was fiddling with the bedside table and handed him a glass of water. Milk White took this gratefully and drank from it; draining it in small, steady gulps. "All he needed was rest."

"You've got us worried," another one piped up, his curly brown hair partially hidden by a boy's cap he wore on his head in a jaunty angle. A blue stud on the left ear gleamed, reflecting the flickering flames from the candles.

A new voice spoke, and its owner smiled down at him; glittering sapphire eyes and cherubic lips. "You're okay now, that's what matters."

"You gave us such a fright, showing up at the doorstep in the middle of the night like that!" A loud boisterous voice shattered the feeling of peace. "We thought you were a friggin' …!"

"Don't be so rude!" There was an elbow aimed at the ribs, and the former speaker was suddenly clutching his side painfully. "We're sorry; it's so rude of us. We ought to have introduced ourselves first." The nice smile in the tanned face was so inviting; the brown hair in warm waves on the sides of his face. "My name is Oldie. I'm a Blacksmith."

"Hey, mate, the name's Shorty. I'm a Rouge." The blue stud gleamed yet again.

Large doe-eyes blinked down at him pleasantly, a hand outstretched to grip his in a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you; my name's Pretty. I'm a Mage."

"Hi. I'm the Wizard Beauty." He was the owner of the 'cherubic lips' and sapphire eyes. Milk White nodded politely.

A flash of a mischievous smile. The speaker had blue eyes like his own, cerulean eyes that both Beauty and Pretty had. "Hey there, cutie. Nice to see you awake and functioning. I'm Smiley, and I'm a Hunter." Only then did the Prince notice the wolf contentedly napping by the professed Hunter's ankles. The hawk on the Hunter's arm rustled its wings, preening. Milk White glared, disliking the insinuation of his tone, and his smile.

A boisterous youth pushed his way forward brusquely. "It's Noisy, I'm a Swordsman, and you better remember that or else …" The Blacksmith gave him a light tap on the head. "Behave yourself, Apprentice."

"And I'm Friar Wise, a Monk, of course." The eyeglasses shaded the brown eyes momentarily. "And you, what might your name be?"

Milk White thought for quite some time before opening his mouth. From Koshino's words, these 'Kanagawa Guild Members were to be trusted, but he should be very careful. Certainly, he can't introduce himself as the Crown Prince of the Realm, much less the Rose Princess. He can't tell them the truth, yet. "I don't remember."

Noisy snorted, and this earned a tug from Pretty. Beauty frowned, while Smiley stroked his pet's fur in lazy contemplation. The bird cawed and flew out of the window.

"Oh, dear." Pretty was looking Beauty, who was conversing with Friar Wise in low tones. The Monk, a finger pressed to his lips, was shaking his head. "It can't be helped, unfortunately."

"But we can't have that! What about…" Shorty started, biting his lips. He snapped his fingers. "Ah! Why don't we call you Rukawa?"

Oldie shook his head, crossing his arms. "It doesn't concur with our names."

The Rouge shrugged. "True. Demo, look at it this way. The guy there," he indicated Milk White with his chin, "is our guest. And don't you recall those water sprites who keep on following us home ever since we brought him in?"

Milk White tried the given name in his mind. Rukawa meant flowing river. It sounded quite okay, with nothing to give away his identity.

"It's a lame-ass name, perfect for you," Noisy said, pointedly looking at him. The Prince glared back stonily. "Noisy Nozaru."

The Monk stood up, before anymore fighting commenced. Oldie had the impish and infuriated Swordsman by the ear. "Well, then, Rukawa, we'll leave you now. Rest."

Milk White nodded, and instantly fell asleep.

While the Prince was still weak, the seven Guild Members did not leave for work, and only stayed home to watch over their recuperating guest. Over the days, as his body regained strength, Milk White did not-so-strenuous activities for his benefactors, like cooking for them, and they returned to their work, which was anything under the sun. One time, they were down at the sewers of the Capital, cleaning the place of disgusting creatures that resided there. They frequently go to the Skull Island, the Museum, the Cave, the Dungeon, the Sunken Galleon and the Village. Most of the time, they stay for days in the Collapsed Mines and the City Ruins. What they did was for money, of course. Almost every time that they return from their expeditions, they have an amount of loot that could be considered illegal.

"You have to venture out, too, you know," Shorty suggested to him one day, as he stared out of the window. They were about to leave him again, for the Forest. The King had called for arms; strange creatures were suddenly popping out of nowhere and scaring the wits out of the Novices who needed to deliver wares.

He was better now, and he could go about the house as he pleased, not having to sit down every other meter. In fact, he could clean the whole house, if he only felt like it.

The Rouge continued talking, as he tugged on the tight fur-lined boots he would wear for the journey. "Staying cooped up won't do you any good."

"You'll never regain your strength if you'll never venture out," added Pretty as he stoppered various phials containing a wide range of Tonics.

"I agree," Oldie nodded, biting his lip as he examined the War Axe he used. With fluid movements, he began to sharpen it. "But you will need appropriate clothing, like what we wear."

Noisy smirked at him, brandishing his Ashandrei, Chain Vest clinking. His helm perched askew on his head. The runes engraved on the side told him that it was enchanted to enhance his Energy. "You do know about the Red Bats that live near, don't you? They don't like anyone, and they attack the innocent, at any time of the day."

Milk White only raised an eyebrow at him, and he bristled.

"In any case," Wise interrupted, moving his fingers in the tight knuckle weapons he wore, unruffled, capturing the Prince's attention, "you must be protected. Though I'm afraid we're rather low on stocks right now … We'd have to do on surplus, I guess…" The light caught the mithril he wore on the left hand.

Smiley, with a smile like his pet's plastered on his face, spoke up. "I believe we still have some armor of some sort. Girl clothing. It's up there, in the attic, formerly owned by one of those who abandoned us. It would fit you, though." The apprentice swordsman guffawed, and the Hunter smiled wider, if it were probable. "Ne, Rukawa, what do you think?" The falcon cawed from its perch.

The Prince shook his head. Beauty frowned at him, carefully placing his Scrolls with several enchanted Staves inside his pack. "I suppose you'd rather rot here inside the house, instead. The Talisman of Bone you had had been most interesting, but I'm afraid it's perishable."

The Blacksmith was now inspecting the glinting Holy Bolts the Hunter had made at top speed. "We'll be gone for two weeks. The food stock would last long, and so will firewood, I suppose, if you use it sparingly, but water needed to be drawn everyday, outside." He did not look up from what he was doing. "I don't have the right materials to make armor especially for you, and none of us have spares …"

Milk White sighed, shoulders sagging with defeat. "Do I have a choice?"

Noisy was about to speak when a long-suffering glare from Oldie shut him up. He shrugged instead. The Hunter's face looked about to crack from the size of his smile. Not even the Opera Mask he was trying on covered it.

So, the next day, the Prince tugged at the uncomfortably clingy leather breeches he wore. Even the Hunter would not dare wear them, Milk White was sure, if children were in the vicinity, about a 2-mile radius. His footwear was a comfortable fit, quite snug. There was a low-slung sheath for a dagger hanging from the low waist, within reach of his right hand. He wore a light vest with nothing underneath. His lower arms were bandaged and he held a Money Dagger in a gloved hand. His black hair was kept from his eyes by a bandanna, the kind you can see Japanese ghosts wear. He was not a happy Prince, even beneath the Iron Mask he wore in hopes of disguising himself.

True enough, creatures of several kinds attacked him while he was outside. 'Funny that I was not attacked on the way to the Guild House my first time', he noted; as he killed the fifth Red Bat that barred his way. 'It must have something to do with what Koshino gave me.' After quickly going through his task, he went back in the house.

Meanwhile, in the other Kingdom, the Queen was yet again busy with the process of beautification, this time, a sauna. She was readying herself for the nobles who would be visiting the realm to pledge alliance. Her husband paced, unable to sit still; he had only returned for the ceremonies, and Mitsui would soon be leaving the Palace for skirmishes that would warrant him to the countries as colonies.

"What I don't understand," he was saying, "Was why Koshino would quit the order of the Knights! And not only that, he ran away to join the Archers' Guild of the Other Kingdom …"

"Trouble yourself no more about it," Fuuji interrupted her husband impatiently, cutting off her words with a wave of her hand. Mitsui fell silent, not exactly twiddling his thumbs, but close. "Now. What I want you to reconsider is the Treaty offered by Count Ikegami …"

The King nodded wordlessly, acquiescing without complaint to the instructions given to him. "And leave the search for your son to me," the wicked Queen added afterwards. "Prince Kaede will be found." Her tone became sickeningly sweet, obviously fake; she did more than speak as she worked her brand of magic. "How does sleep sound, Hisashi? I believe you are very tired. And you do have to go in a week's time. You really should have all the rest that you can get."

"Hai," Mitsui mumbled sleepily. He stood up drunkenly, sapphire eyes dull and negligent of the hand mirror his wife held. "I'll go to bed right now."

Fuuji's face almost cracked with the effort of keeping her smile, unfortunately needed for the spell to work. Dealing with her husband had been draining, especially of late, when inevitable questions arose, first about his 'missing' heir, next concerning the runaway former Captain of the Knights of Heaven. The latter was peculiar, most peculiar, in a way she could not fathom, but Fuuji did not deem it too important. Traitors to the crown would be dealt with when she wills it. A sheen of condensation clung to the bejeweled mirror, but it did not hinder the cruel face on the glass.

The lines were said by rote now; Fuuji didn't believe that Milk White would still be alive. Even rebirth of the Prince's eternal soul was impossible with what she did. "Mirror, mirror, in my hand. Who's the fairest in the land?"

"None save for you, my cohort Queen, is the fairest the land had ever seen."

Fuuji nodded, satisfied by the answer, but a part of her hung back. For all she knew, it might be due to the heat; she asked the mirror a different question. "Mirror, mirror, heed my call. Who's the fairest of them all?"

"Unfortunately for you, Queen dearest, Beauty and Milk White are the fairest." The Mirror sneered.

"What!" Fuuji screeched. "I knew it! Yet … This cannot be! Oh, woe is me, woe is me!" She started pacing at the confined space, sweat dripping from her. "Mirror, mirror, answer me true. Where is Milk White, do you have any clue?"

Hasegawa's face frowned at her. "To answer to any rhyme, I am bound yet I know not if the Prince can be found." The glass misted, and not from the heat. Swirls of a myriad of colors appeared. A chibi version of Hasegawa wearing the uniform of the Knights of Heaven began to dance around.

Suddenly, Milk White's face replaced that of Hasegawa's dancing chibi. The Prince was dressed like an ascetic, a large Chinese Turban of red coloring decorating his head. He seemed to be collecting berries from a not-so familiar forest grounds. The Queen gritted her teeth, quickly thinking of a rhyme that the mirror would answer to.

"Where is Milk White? To know is my right!" The statement sucked, but she couldn't get her mind to thinking properly.

"The answer is hidden from my eyes. That is the place where you haven't got spies."

"I've gathered as much," she snapped irritably. "Very well, then, I've no use for you now." She replaced the looking glass on its stand by the wooden shelf. She should have known it was foolish to try to make others do the dirty work for her. It was time to return to her greater calling, and to recall her cunning yet limited witchcraft.

"Don't just let anyone in, okay?" Wise repeated for the nth time. The party was yet again setting out for the Beach, trying to clear it out of mutated wildlife that caused the decline of tourists there. "The forest could be dangerous, especially at night."

Milk White nodded, bored, not bothering to waste his energy to remind the Monk that he haven't gotten deaf yet. It was about the millionth time he heard the admonition. He knew that his companions meant well, but this was getting way out of hand.

"Baka can't understand, Wise-san, all he does is sleep, the baka," Noisy taunted, sticking out his tongue at the unresponsive prince. "Baka, baka, baka, baka, baka …"

"Ah, Noisy-kun, yare yare, desu ne …" Pretty tugged Noisy's sleeve, pointing at Oldie.

The professed Blacksmith glared at the pouting Apprentice. He hefted the Hammer he was holding, squeezing the handle. "Damatteru yo."

Chastened, the wild-haired Swordsman did shut his mouth.

Wizard Beauty shook his head in exasperation. He turned to Rukawa, who was yawning, and fighting to stay awake for formalities sake. After all, it was more comfortable to sleep on the bed.

"Well, it's time to get going." He smiled. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

Rukawa shook his head.

Oldie snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot." He handed the Prince a large bag. "I've assessed all those Wings you've gathered. It's yours. You earned it."

He thanked the Blacksmith, which he acknowledged with a nod.

Shorty leant close to him for a moment, whispering, "You want me to get you a Walkman? It's much cheaper than an Electric Guitar, and even though it might not work, I'm sure Oldie can do something to fix it, you know …"

He nodded, thanking the Rogue. Relief washed over him when he realized that when they come back from their mission, he wouldn't have to endure countless hours listening to Noisy bitch around and be the wild monkey that he was.

"Take care, honey," Smiley purred, winking as he shut the door behind him.

Milk White did not spend some effort to roll his eyes at the irritating Hunter, and was about to sleep the morning off when the doorbell rang.

"Probably just Noisy, who forgot something again," he thought to himself as he opened the door. "Or maybe that stupid Hunter out to harass me alone before leaving …"

"Good morning! Oh! You must be the new Guild Member I heard about! You are Rukawa-kun, right? My name is Haruko. May I draw your attention to my wares? You might find something that would be worth your while," the girl said, smiling. She was a Merchant, and beside her is a flowery cart. A green dragon with a star clip on its frill hid behind her. "I have all sorts of new items from the Dock City that I offer in reasonable prices …"

Rukawa frowned at her, crossing his arms. There was something weird about the girl, something that Oldie had told him … "I'm just a housekeeper. Go away. I'm not interested."

The Merchant smoothed her dress, brushing stray brown locks away from her blue eyes. She may look innocent and naïve, but there was a glint in her eyes that shouted: I'm a shrewd businesswoman, damn it!

"Oh … that's all right … I guess. They won't mind if you buy anything from me, would they, Rukawa-kun?" She batted her lashes at him.

Poor, hopeless girl. As if trying to charm her way into the Prince's affection would get her somewhere.

Totally annoyed by then, Rukawa began to close the door but stopped when the girl spoke again. "Chotto matte! I have Quest items in stock!"

Quest items? He steeped out of the house and took a few steps closer to the girl. "Do you have working Earphones?" the Prince demanded.

The girl smiled at him. "Of course, okyaku-san!" Her hand disappeared beneath the clumps of flowers that decorated her cart, and she pulled out a pair of Earphones. She handed it to the eager Prince, who turned it over his fingers.

Haruko returned to her cart, her head disappearing in the canopy, before returning with a Radio. "Here, you can try the Earphones out. The Radio's not for sale …"

Rukawa nodded impatiently as he slipped the device on and waited.

Haruko, the Merchant, smiled at him, and plugged the Earphones in the Radio.

That was when the Prince realized what he had missed.

Oldie had told him about a Novice, his partner during the Merchant Test, who had passed. They gave each other deals and discounts. But she was detained in the Collapsed Mines the day before she had to take her Alchemist Test.

Her name was Haruko. And she looked exactly like the Merchant who was standing before him.

Rukawa tried to pull away the Earphones, to back away, but it was too late.

"Good bye, Ice Prince." She smiled at him. "I win."

And everything went black.

>>>TBC

 Ashandrei. It's a sort of spear. It's Mat's weapon. Lifted from Wheel of Time. Property of Robert Jordan. I don't claim it, don't sue me!

**List of Japanese Words Used:**

Gomen - Sorry

Nani - What

Inari - God of Fertility. (Sort of.) One of the animals sacred to him is the fox.

Chotto matte - Wait

Sayonara - Good bye

Arigato - Thank you

Nozaru - Wild Monkey

Ne - Hey

Hai - Yes

Baka - Stupid

Yare yare desu ne - Hey leave it off (At least that's how I would translate it as Pretty used it)

Damatteru yo - Shut up

okyaku - customer

**The Thingamajiggers (Alphabetical Order) Just in case you want to be sure who they really are:**

Wizard Beauty - Fujima

Swordsman Noisy - Kiyota

Blacksmith Oldie - Maki

Mage Pretty - Jin

Rogue Shorty - Miyagi

Hunter Smiley - Sendoh

Friar Wise - Hanagata


	2. Milk White and the Nine Realms

**Title: **Milk White and the Nine Realms (2/3)

**Genre: **Fantasy/Comedy/Romance?

**Rating: **For children at least 10 years old and above. Ehm … come to think about it … no, this is for people no younger than 13, and those who approve of yaoi.

**Disclaimer: **dripping with sarcasmOf course I own SD; that's why I'm writing a fanfic for lark and NOT making some more episodes and raking in cash.

Sheesh.Slam Dunk belongs to Inoue Takehiko. Snow White is a story that I can borrow without infringing anything, right? Ragnarok (the online RPG) is not mine, and damn, I don't play anymore. So there.

**Notes: **This still contains stuff that only my friends and me could understand (like the significance of the gemstones :D). Don't mind. Anyway. Snow White is too overrated; I tried so hard to boost the story. I hope it's likeable enough. Do tell me though if I sound too much like a Fantasy aficionado and should pry myself away from rereading Kushiel's Legacy by Jacqueline Carey for the nth time (lies prostrate on the floor Anafiel Delaunay, I'm not worthy! I dedicate this fic to you, Antinous!).

**Summary: **More plot twists than ever. You will never think of Snow White the same way ever again. (Man, I sound like an efin blurb.)

"**WELL**, this seems familiar."

Milk White heard a soft, strained laugh, coming from somewhere near to his left. He winced at the noise, feeling as if someone was using his head as a drum. Trying to open his eyes, he struggled to sit up in the bed, remembering how he came to lie on it. The last thing he could recall was a young lady who called herself Haruko … He must have done something rash, because spots swam before his eyes. Rukawa groaned.

"There, there, Rukawa-san." A pair of hands pushed him to lie back down. Kaede resisted for a while, before realizing that his body was not up to the challenge. "You should relax. You still need to rest. Quietly."

"I told you we should have restrained him," the voice he recognized as the Hunter's commented wryly. He was the one who had laughed when the Rose Princess stirred.

The Crown Prince opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt as if it were the size of the Palace, and dry as a boot. He gave a low moan.

A cool towel patted his lips, leaching water to his parched mouth. He moved his lips upward, pressing them to the smooth wet cloth.

"And how do you suggest to restrain him, Smiley?" Milk White didn't have to see Oldie's face to know that he had raised an eyebrow. Sarcasm oozed generously from his tone. "By tying him up? By trussing him like a roasted pig, perhaps? Or maybe by cuffing his limbs to the bedposts?"

"If your suggestion is among the lines of having someone lie on top of him, my dear Hunter," Wizard Beauty said, and the Prince realized that it was he who was tending to him, "then you are sorely mistaken. He would have killed that person upon waking."

Milk White smirked to himself, thanking the Wizard for knowing him enough for that.

"I wasn't suggesting myself, Beauty-kun." Ha! As if! The wolf, somewhere near enough to feel its warmth, gave a growl, as if daring anyone to challenge his Master.

Noisy couldn't have picked any better timing than he had. He used the golden opportunity to butt in, before anyone could pay attention to him and hinder him from speaking.

"Who are you?" he demanded, walking over to the bed where Rukawa lay. The Prince stifled a wince, feeling too helpless for his taste. The Swordsman pointed at him with his forefinger. Amazingly enough, everyone seemed too weary to stop him at that moment. Milk White himself, when he saw the worry and tension eating at the others, judged that listening to the ranting was better than halting it.

The wild-haired Noisy continued. "Why does anyone bother to send a magic powerful enough to kill you? Who are you? Are you a refugee? Why? From whom do you escape? Why did you come to us? How did you know about us? Who told you?" The questions were an endless stream bursting through the dam.

The Mage seemed disconcerted as he held up a hand to interrupt the interrogation, but he looked as if he wanted to wring out the answers from the bedridden Prince himself. It was Oldie who took care of the problem at hand. He placed a finger against his lips, motioning that they should hear the Prince speak his defense.

"I, too, want to know," he said simply.

Rukawa's vision blurred as he sat up, but after a few blinks, it was clear again, enough to see that all seven were waiting for him. "But who are you?" Milk White thought to himself in reply to the barrage of questions. He took in the sight of them; the Hunter, the Monk, and the Wizard were the ones nearest the bed. The Blacksmith was leaning against the wall, while the Mage and the curious Swordsman sat next to each other, a polite distance away from him. The mournful Rogue was sitting on top of the low dresser just behind Friar Wise.

He cleared his throat. "And you?" His voice was no more than a whisper; his throat felt tender and his tongue filled his parched mouth. It hurt to talk. "Why was I asked to come to you? Who are _you_? How can you have the power to save me? Why would you want to?" He paused, taking a deep lungful of breath. It was tiring, just trying to stay awake. He closed his eyes tightly. The light was too bright all of a sudden.

"And why should we trust you with who we are?" Shorty countered, fidgeting in his seat. Smiley shot him a look. "Not being overly cautious, now, no offense, but how do we know that what we ask for would be safe if we do give it?" It was natural for Noisy to be nodding as if he were the one who have spoken himself, but Pretty's eyes widened with the gradual understanding of the situation. It was giving Rukawa a migraine.

Well, the Crown Prince couldn't really blame him; he would have said the same for them if he were in their position. But he wasn't. And to top it all off, he doesn't know how to answer the question satisfactorily, either. He opened his mouth, and closed it immediately afterward.

Pretty raised an eyebrow. "How can he trust us likewise, Shorty?" He gave a laugh. The shrewd look in his eyes made Rukawa's relief go into smoke, though. "Politics."

"Someone told you to come to us?" But it was not a question. There was a strange glint in the Hunter's blue eyes, a feeling that he conveyed to his Companions. The wolf growled softly, but not threateningly, and the hawk flew out of the open doorway in a loud flutter of feathers. "Who? Why did he or she tell you about us? How can anyone else know about us except …?" he trailed off, frowning.

A pregnant silence hung; the only sounds were of the Monk's beads in his braids. Friar Wise, not on anybody's side except for his patient's recovery, took the cloth from Beauty's stilled hands. He dabbed at the Prince's lips with the sopping material, frowning when he noticed how shallow his breathing was, and how the blue veins show clearly through the skin. He clicked his tongue and began mixing the contents of small vials smelling of freshly cut grass in a shallow bowl, leaving the moist fabric on his lips.

The other six did not waver in their gazes.

Until the Wizard rolled his eyes. "Evidently, nothing can be learned from either parties until we all get some semblance of rest." He narrowed his eyes; it was clear now, if it hadn't been before, that he was the leader among the seven. "Hmm?"

Noisy shot Milk White a triumphant look on his way out. The Blacksmith saw, and rewarded the insufferably arrogant Swordsman with a cuff for his efforts. Pretty, with a hand on his chin and a far-away look on his blue eyes, exited the room without further comment. Shorty poked and prodded the stupefied Hunter to motion.

That left the Wizard and the Monk, who was still busily mixing the restorative tonic for Rukawa, who eyed both warily. The water on the cloth was drying up fast and the magician absently dipped it into the basin and replaced it on his mouth.

"Wise," Beauty admonished the cleric. He produced a clean white towel smelling lightly of herbs and dabbed at the Monk's sweating forehead. Blue eyes concerned, he touched the other lightly on the cheeks with his fingertips. "You need to rest, too."

He did not look up at the man beside him, absorbed in dropping a hazy green tincture to the tonic. It turned a light cloudy purple. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the debate. "But Beauty …"

The Wizard crossed his arms stubbornly. "You haven't broken your fast today, either. When was the last time you've eaten?" The man in question remained silent. "Well?"

"I forgot," was the terse reply. "It didn't seem to important at the time, and nobody was watching over Rukawa then."

Beauty would have spoken, but he only watched as Wise poured the contents of the bowl into a porcelain flask. When the container was handed to him, he removed the towel, then let the Prince drink the liquid in tiny sips. Afterwards, he dipped the material in the basin and wrung it out, leaving it pleasantly damp, and put it on top of Milk White's mouth.

As if he could not contain himself, Beauty spoke harshly. "You're not guarding Rukawa after he falls asleep." Before the Monk could object, he continued, cerulean eyes ablaze, voice rising sharply. "I forbid it! There's no point if you fall over from exhaustion while watching him!" Milk White was surprised at the presence of tears just threatening to spill over. "I demand your avowed deference at once."

Wise did not speak, but by the set of his lips, he showed no sign of complying with the other's wishes.

"It is my right! I invoke it now. Obey me!" The Wizard's hands clutched at the Monk's shoulders painfully. "You swore to follow me while we remain in this country. You are not an oath-breaker, or have you already recanted your promises, _Friar_ Wise?"

Spectacled brown eyes met raging blue calmly. "I've broken enough vows for you, my Lord Wizard. Why should this be any different from the others?"

"I cannot command you in this, can I?" It was Beauty who dropped his gaze first. "All this for a child. I should be jealous but … won't you take it easy for a while?" His voice quivered, the authority leeching out and pleading taking its place. "Even for my sake?"

With a jolt, Rukawa realized that though the Wizard was standing behind the seated Monk, his arms were wrapped around the taller, bulkier frame, and their cheeks were pressed together. Beauty's eyes were closed, and through the thick lashes, the tears fell down the creamy cheeks. The Wizard's words made him feel uncomfortable enough, yet this was definitely …

Wise received the embrace passively, sad brown eyes on their laced fingers. "I see him as a son, Kenji, and I just can't let him dwindle before my eyes. I have to do this for me … for us … I can't help it, honey. I can't …"

"Shhh."

The Prince's cheeks enflamed, and he was glad that he controlled it enough that it only showed a faint tinge of pink. It was indecent! Rukawa was thankful that Beauty's hair was long enough and full enough to curtain what they were doing, but still! It's like watching your parents on their honeymoon! Or make your younger sibling! Both! Whatever!

Finally, the moment passed, though it felt like forever to the young (but legal) Milk White. He noticed the Monk's color improve, as if actually fortified by the kiss. Better not to think about that. Then he saw the slight discoloration, just a small bruise, on Wise's neck. He flushed. If this had been going around a long time ago, he was amazed at their noise control. Or were there amulets and seals of that kind too? He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

"But why, Toru?" Wise was smiling; he pressed two fingers on top of Beauty's somewhat swollen lips. Rukawa burned anew. Better to think about other things and haul his mind out of the gutter …

"I have to, sweetheart." The Monk shook his head. "You remind me of vows. What of the ones we swore to our friends? Is he Naughty's son? Or Virtuous's? Or both, may the Goddess have mercy? He certainly bears the mark of them on his features." He frowned. "Though why he hadn't begun to Slow, I can't begin to fathom, with that much Spirit."

"You make the old wounds bleed, beloved." Beauty's voice was low. "Do you think it possible? That he is from a union between Naughty and Virtuous?"

"Have you given up? If anyone can do it, those two can." Forgetting the Wizard's head on his shoulder, the Monk almost shrugged. "There's hope still, I believe. Sensitive left us to search for a way."

He worried a lip between his teeth, his tone tart. His fingers played with the wooden beads on the Monk's hair. "Seventeen summers had passed, Toru. He has not returned."

"No," Wise agreed. "He has not." He reached up to caress the Wizard's face, smiling at him tenderly. "But, Kenji, I do not give up on the secret."

They looked at each other, seemingly unaware of the Milk White, who lay absolutely motionless, wishing he were blissfully ignorant and unconscious. His ears were burning so fiercely that he was sure that the two lovers felt it.

"A bond between a Bard and a Dancer is the strongest, but that doesn't mean that we can't work it out, does it? Stop fretting, Kenji. And anyway," the Monk was saying, "aren't they marked of their heritage? If he is who we believe he is, we could simply …"

The Wizard shook his head. "We must have his permission, love, you know that."

Before Rukawa could betray himself with a twitch, Beauty realized that he was still awake. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes before addressing the extremely discomfited Rose Princess. "We will be posting Protectors at your door, child. Best not to worry, and just trust us." At that, he grimaced. "Not that you could do anything otherwise, of course. But still. Ah. There is time for this rather tedious politicking later."

"Know that we mean you no harm," Wise assured him, as he lit the censers, all bearing various purgative herbal scents. He felt better, already. Though seeing that the two were not kissing anymore might have something to do with it. "If we wished you dead, we would not have tried to save you at all."

"All will be well," Beauty pronounced with a forceful tone and a more beguiling smile. "And all is well. As for the other matters … we shall speak of it soon enough. Now rest."

Milk White's eyes widened at the sudden comprehension, even as sleep started to tug at him. Their names. He knew their names. First names, at least. Names were power here, in this Land, and he knew theirs. He could use it right now, to curse them, to command them … but how to invoke the power? How to control it? Dangerous magic. The Wizard Beauty – Kenji, he was called, and lovingly, at that – gave him a sensible advice, and it was better to act upon it rather than dwell on his suspicions.

The tonic was finally working. So, as much as he was distraught by the next events, he was too sleepy to do anything about it.

Wise tucked the blanket more comfortably about him; the Wizard gave Rukawa a light peck above his brow, and bid him goodnight and healing. As the Monk did, before he left.

"Sleep sound and wake, child. We are watching over you."

"**CAN'T** sleep, Smiley?"

Rukawa felt groggy and out of sorts. He had no idea how much time had passed since he was last awake, but if the amount of moonlight would be his judged, it had been two or three nights. There was a covered glass of whatever colorless liquid was resting on top of the table beside him, along with a vial containing a cloudy purple solution. He did not need to smell or taste it to know that it contained a tincture of opium. His hand quested for the water but was stilled when he heard the voice of the Blacksmith. Apparently, he and someone else were conversing just outside his room.

"Are the stars too bright for you or what?" Smiley was probably drowning in cynicism by now. "Don't tell me this is the first time you've seen a shooting star."

The Hunter's unusually melancholic tone stilled the mockery and jesting from his companion. "I Dreamt about Cross." Even at a distance, the capitals were hard to miss.

"Dream." From the sounds, Milk White could deduce that the Blacksmith was walking past the shrubs. "You haven't Dreamt for a long while, Smiley. And you have such an interesting choice of subject, too."

"I don't think that it's just because I miss him, Shin-kun, unless I'm hitting puberty again, which would be horrifying, if you think about it." He sighed. "What if it were Hiro-kun who told him about us?" Rukawa did not have to be a genius to know that the second "him" was himself. And he did not have to imagine the sad hopeful smile on Smiley's face, either; he felt it. "Maybe he's in grave danger, or Naughty is. I'm not sure. That's why he sent Rukawa – or whoever he was – to us. That's why I Dreamt."

It was not hard to paint the picture of the Blacksmith with his arms crossed, a thoughtful frown on his lips. Milk White eyed the vial. He wasn't sure if eavesdropping like this was worth it. On the other hand, laudanum would only knock him out and leave him as ignorant as pie. Ignorance was bliss; have he not heard that somewhere?

"You gave up on actively helping Naughty and Cross … and the rest … a long time ago, Akira. You told me that when you sought refuge in my country, peer to peer. Let it go. It's all in the past."

The back of Rukawa's neck prickled, sweat drenching him. All over his body, his hair tried to stand.

"Shin'ichi … I can't … you remind me of my words, but … Naughty was the only one who gave a damn … and Hiro-kun …" Were those sobs? Now that was fairly hard to think about. With a decisive motion, he drained the glass and the vial, which he regretted immediately. But wasn't regret the genius of afterthought? "What am I going to do? He looks like them … looks like him too much."

It was a much stronger dose. Rukawa felt woozy already, but his hearing remained clear before totally numbed by sleep. As if he could understand what they were saying.

"And if he is Naughty's son?" The words spoken by Wise –Toru – were the same ones Oldie – Shin'ichi – now spoke to the Hunter – Akira. His lips curled in a moue of perplexity. "Or maybe Cross's son?"

"Hair of midnight, eyes of twilight," the Blacksmith intoned.

_Why does it matter whose son am I?_ It was fatigue talking. _So what if you know I'm Crown Prince Kaede, son of Hisashi and Kiminobu? What's going to change? Are you going to sell me out to the usurper Queen or what? Who the hell are you people anyway?_

The Hunter was talking again, so the Crown Prince quieted his mind and listened, even if he would rather sleep.

"Yes." Akira laughed. "So the songs say about us."

"Though they seem to have forgotten the seemingly hereditary perversion your line possesses." Shin'ichi cut all protests with, "Take it as a compliment, Akira. Though I'm minded to know the answer to my previous question."

"No." Maybe a shake of his head, or a stomp of his left foot, would go with it. "Never Hiro-kun's. He promised." Maybe he would have bitten his lip, or stroked the hawk that was perched on his arm, or ruffled the wolf's dusky ruff. "Well … Unless, of course he managed to ferret out the secret before he left and I didn't know and it was our last night together and all … Rukawa does look a lot like Naughty, but then he never liked girls, so … if Virtuous puzzled the secret out … why would their son be in danger? They were of the strongest among us." Smiley groaned in despair. "It's just that I'm so tired, Shin-kun. I can't figure it out. I've given up hope, but …"

"There is always the possibility that you're just making all the connections up, Akira, get a hold of yourself." Placating; exactly how to sooth a madman.

"Yes, there is that." It was said with a soft exhalation of breath. It was hard to continue imagining what they were doing now. Were they, perhaps, as close as Wise and Beauty are? Or were each as lonely as the clever Rogue, only bonded by friendship? Whatever the case, if they were getting to the kissy and love-love parts and all that, at least, Rukawa can't see them, which was a relief. Not that he was against any of it, given that he has two fathers, but still …

"But then, why the markings on the Talisman, Shin-kun? That was a work of Hiro-kun, or else I'm the Lady of the Hearth herself." There was anguish in his voice, Rukawa was sure. And it was full of befuddled conjecture. "What if he's my son, for crying out loud?"

Shin'ichi – Oldie – chuckled at the thought; at which one, exactly, Milk White was not sure. Was it at the Lady remark, or at the son remark?

It was getting harder to keep his grasp at consciousness. He should have known not to drink the tonic right away. Friar Wise had strengthened the dosage since that completely awkward scene with the Wizard. Comparing the shame to the information he might glean … But the Blacksmith was speaking again, and he was so drowsy he could barely hear them …

"By tomorrow, you can ask Rukawa himself."

Son? Rukawa blinked. Smiley actually toys with the possibility that they might be father and son? He never did get to analyze that part.

That Smiley was his _father_? Was the Hunter deranged? If he thinks that he can sire at an age where he haven't even learned to walk yet, maybe. Anyway, unless the Hunter was actually King Hisashi in disguise, he couldn't be. Hiroaki. Now, why did that sound so familiar? And what was the secret they were all obsessed about, which somebody, by some unknown reason or intent, managed to unearth? Come to think about it, how did Captain Koshino know about these … thingamajiggers? And why did he send him here?

**WHEN** Rukawa woke up the next morning, he was healed enough to want to get up and take a bath immediately. Which made his housemates very cheerful people indeed. Only propriety, and verbal abuse from the Wizard and the Blacksmith, kept Smiley and his companions (the hawk and the wolf, I wouldn't call them pets) out of the bathroom while Milk White luxuriated in the tub filled with warm water to his shoulders.

Delicious cooking smells wafted in the closed doors from the kitchen. Pretty's cooking, no doubt. Or whoever. Thank Heavens he didn't have to endure Oldie's so-called _culinary expertise_ for today. Even Rukawa was a better cook than he was, and all that the Rose Princess could do in the kitchen was commit arson.

The Prince sighed. He should have known No doubt, all of them were excited that answers would finally be given that day. _Just how long had they been put off from the issue?_ he wondered.

"Three days and two nights, if it pleases my Lord," the voice replied to his thoughts.

Rukawa was not the type to yelp and flounder about, so he settled for an icy glare. And tucking his legs closer to his body; there was no need for the person to see much more of him than what he wanted to be seen.

"Who are you?" Well, that seemed to be the matter of dispute between he and his housemates recently.

"I am a Protector, if it pleases my Lord." He could not decide if the person was male or female. He had enough experience of dressing up in female clothing to know that someone does not necessarily have to be a girl to dress up in feminine fashion. "I am appointed to guard my Lord's person from all sorts of unwanted attention and look after him, if it pleases." As if someone, pretty enough to make him catch his breath, with long brown hair and large brown eyes, watching him bathe did not supply him with 'unwanted attention'.

That was certainly enlightening. Milk White did not say a word. The Protector did not say a word, which was a blessing. He never had been a chatty person, and being saved from near death did not change that. Though he did wish he knew how to address the Follower. And which, from she or he, was correct. If he was to go by appearance, the Follower was she, if by voice, he. It was a confusing business.

"I am called Moon Flower, and you can address me as such, if it pleases my Lord," the Follower answered promptly. "And I am male, so 'he' is the correct term, if it pleases."

Rukawa inclined his head to show that he understood. _You read my thoughts? How?_ he ventured.

Moon Flower nodded his assent, which sent the pair of bells attached to his hair tinkling. "Yes. I am aware of them because the amount of Spirit you and I command enables us to communicate that way, if it pleases you. My Lord Beauty, whom I have served longest, requests that, if it pleases, all questions be asked later, to ..." He seemed to be searching for a term, but could not find it. "To them. To the Seven."

The Seven? So humble a designation. There was no point in worrying about that, so he stood up, and thankfully enough, Moon Flower withdrew his gaze, modest yet vigilant. Rukawa thanked him as he toweled and dressed, and the Protector offered to comb his hair. An impulsive thought perturbed him enough to ask, "Why do you follow the Seven?" _'And are not among them'_, was left unsaid.

The man ran the comb through the blue-black hair, unsnarling the tangles with swift gentle pulls. "For revenge, I need to stay alive. To stay alive, Star Seeker, my own Protector, has to agree to the bargain that we could not refuse. We negotiated with them; we trusted them. My enemies have not found me, and will not, if it pleases. And I still have a shot at revenge, since I am alive, and so is Star Seeker, no?" Moon Flower loosely braided the still-damp raven locks. "And besides, the Seven, they do keep secrets well."

"**DO** you swear to tell the truth? No lies by omission and clouding meanings by particular phrasing?"

Pretty regarded Milk White with cool blue eyes, shifting his weight on the cushion. "Some things are better left unknown, unsaid. Surely, you, of all people, know that."

The Wizard shook his head. "Truth hurts, and the ones we do not know hurt most."

"When finally divulged," the Mage agreed, but did not comment further.

"And the aliases?" the Prince demanded, without heat, only to understand.

The Monk held out his hands, an offer of goodwill, seeking to be indulged. "Part of the Ritual. Part of the Custom which makes us what we are. They are merely cognomens for our Jobs, nothing more."

"We're all of the High Caste," the Hunter – High Hunter – offered, and in reply to the reproachful stares, added, "he might as well know it; it wasn't much of a secret." Which was, of course, true.

"Your silence endangered us," the High Swordsman accused with a somewhat dour relish. "And as much as we value privacy, we will not dwell in ignorance when a reckoning can be achieved." And by his tone, it would be achieved right now.

Oldie crossed his arms. "Know that we only want to know what is needful for all our safety." Then, he waved his words away. "No matter. You understand what my Apprentice said, I can presume as much. But I do trust that if we agree to your terms, you would exact the same on yourself."

Noisy and Shorty's brown eyes pounded at him like relentless hammers, with the complacent Hunter and his Companions as the anvil. He would not be daunted; he would not back out. "Of course." Rukawa gesticulated.

"I am Kenji, High Seat of the House Fujima, Ruling House of the Diamond Mountains." The High Wizard smiled wryly. "I think there's also the tiresome litany of whatever titles I might have forgotten, which all amount to the same thing." He snapped his fingers. "Ah, yes. I am also the regnant of the High Lands, though I haven't gone there in years."

Wise touched the wooden beads that were threaded to his braided waist-length hair. "This is how Spirit priests wear their hair in the Jade Forests, though I had never practiced my art during an emergency." He smiled. "I am High Lord Hanagata Toru, member of the Council of the Peers, the ruling body of the Garnet Shore. I daresay that's enough titles." The High Monk inclined his head, and the Prince touched his lips and bowed his head, an aristocrat acknowledging his like. He grinned at Fujima. "And like Kenji here, it's been a long time since I last visited my holdings."

"Duke Maki Shin'ichi, Lord of the Duchies of Unsullied Waters and Howling Winds, in the Emerald Lakes." Milk White frowned. So far, all three had held – were still holding – positions of extreme power in their respective countries. This was fishy.

"Margrave Jin Soichirou, Third in Line to the Mandrake Throne of the Opal Marshes." He winced. "I don't suppose you'd want every other name I have, so let that suffice."

"Miyagi Ryouta, fourth child of the ruling Lady of the Sapphire Islands." There can only be a Lady in the Sapphire Islands; never had a male been made heir. "And currently host to the Headquarters." Well, that was another question answered: what country were they in?

"Kiyota Nobunaga, son and chosen heir of the Count de Sable of the Ruby Sands." Son of the sands, was he? So that explained his angry disposition. And the earlier tone; he was of noble lineage. "If you have anything against me, it is death by slow torture to lay hands on any noble who has a holding on the Buried Crescent!" Milk White ignored him, and that made him more furious.

"Sendoh Akira, sixth son of the Former Rose Princess. I was also a Captain of the Knights of Heaven, before I retired to become a High Hunter. From the Realm of the Topaz Fields, of course."

And at that statement, Milk White nearly fell out of his seat. Topaz Fields.

He stared at them in shock, so much so that Noisy … Viscount Nobunaga … scowled at him. Surely, he would have complained if not his Master, the Blacksmith, cut him off with a gesture. They were all noblemen, dammit. All of them were not only aristocrats, but were royalty, in their lands. And one of them, the most irritating man he had ever met (except for Noisy), was actually his uncle.

He cleared his throat and emptied his thoughts. A deal was a deal, after all. "Kaede, son of Hisashi. Crown Prince and Rose Princess of the Realm of Topaz Fields and temporary Potentate of the Crystal Valleys."

A profound silence fell and held until one of them laughed.

It was the High Hunter, and his chuckles were jubilant. "Oh, I should have known! Fuck me, I should have known! Hisashi's son, hell, he'd always been aptly named, I do say so myself … Crown Prince and Rose Princess, eh? Hisashi's not only naughty, he's also nuts!"

Rukawa blinked at that. These people knew his father; in fact, it seemed as if they were all good friends. Is that why Captain Koshino sent him here? But Fuuji – he would not call her Queen – was a loyal retainer of the late Prince-Consort Kiminobu, from what he gathered. At that, he recalled himself, along with a not-so-healthy amount of suspicion. "And what proof do you offer me?"

He thought that the first to object would be Noisy. He was wrong. So when Pretty pursed his lips, about to open his mouth to speak in his defense, the amount of offense he took made Milk White almost, but not quite, guilty.

Without further ado, Fujima untied the scarf that hid his neck, uncovering the shining torque he wore. It was made of delicate gold filigree, and caught within it were diamonds. The Crown Prince doubted very much if any other than the Ruling House of Diamond Mountains would have dared wear the torque. He nodded once, to show his acceptance.

Hanagata gave a grim smile as he bared his chest. The two garnet pendants, one the Navigator's Star, the other an anchor, swayed, gathering and reflecting light. In spite of himself, Kaede winced, and Sendoh laughed at him. Rukawa glared spitefully.

The High Hunter moved to poke at the pendant to make it swing on its hook. The Crown Prince flinched, and snarled wordlessly at him. Wise gave the blue-eyed warrior a long-suffering sigh and began to demurely button up.

Maki opened his shirt, standing up as he fiddled with his girdle of thinly braided gold. From it hung about several dozen small chips of emeralds. The High Blacksmith had attached the whole contraption on an elaborate lattice of gilded accessory studded on his navel. Milk White grimaced; the chain must have pulled with every breath, just like the High Lord's. How could he bear that; the Duke had to wear the accoutrements always. To think that he possessed about forty Seals of emeralds …

Jin lifted his robes. Rukawa stared at the intricate twining mithril around Pretty's ankles and upper arms, opals embedded in the knots. Master workmanship demanded that it would not hinder the normal function of the adorned body parts, and serve as lightweight armor. He knew that if the High Mage ever sits on the Throne, his whole body would be treated likewise.

"I shouldn't have mutilated it, but I had no choice," the High Rogue was saying sheepishly, as he added the missing pieces of his earring on his sapphire stud. How could Rukawa been so stupid? When he stared at the token, now ringed with amethyst and aquamarine.

Noisy took off his bandana, and Milk White saw the need for such. A simple golden circlet graced the Viscount's forehead, accentuated with crescent rubies. Rukawa wondered at the ensorcelled band, which the High Swordsman had worn since birth. He knew it was something like Jin's mithril accessories, like his own markings, adapting with the changes in his body, so that it the lines and ink only required annual maintenance.

Kiyota lifted a finger to trace the cool metal, ghosting a hand over his face. "The first part of my training is to be used to the absence of my veil, you know." Everyone wore shrouds in the Ruby Sands; linen of varying quality for commoners, lace for nobility, silk for royalty.

And that only left his uncle, who was smiling at him. "You know how we bear our proofs in our Land, of course?" Milk White nodded, and waited.

Sendoh stood up; he had anticipated this, or else, he wouldn't be wearing robes. He shed the whole thing off and turned his back on the Crown Prince; he was not wearing any undergarments. After a few moments, he said, "Satisfied, Kaede-sama?"

The twining band of limned flowers proclaimed his ancestry, at the base of his back. The two cherry trees framing the Gates of Heaven was barred with a sword, and from the hilt, feathery black wings emerged. Briar bearing six blooms edged the blade on one side, dripping blood. Captain and son of the former Rose Princess; Kaede still could not believe that the man was his uncle. Sendoh shrugged on the robe and sat down.

Seven pairs of eyes waited.

As the Hunter had done, Rukawa stripped his robe off, baring his whole back at them. Someone hissed. They may have no doubts that he was the veritable Rose Princess and Crown Prince, and seeing his tattoo would only strengthen that.

The garland that adorned him, consisting mostly of an assortment of roses, orchids and gentian, rode low on his hips. The Gates of Heaven image, unlike Sendoh's, was not barred. Instead, there was a single-stemmed rose in full bloom, tipped with a single cherry blossom, twined around a coronet. The tattoo, except for the trees, the garland, and Gates of Heaven, was done in black, lacking the pigments that would have come with the Throne.

After a seemly amount of time, the Crown Prince primly donned his clothing and sat down. Utter alarm marred the Monk's smooth forehead. An infinitesimal satisfaction made itself known as he recognized the source of Hanagata's discomfort. The others have inconsequential reactions, so those, he ignored. The only important thing was for them to recognize his claim, and that had been done.

It was Sendoh who spoke first. "Interesting. It's the only one of its kind, isn't it, since you're the only one who was named both Rose Princess and Crown Prince. Hisashi must have been insane." His uncle, it seemed, could not be put off from mischief, as he added, "Don't worry, Hanagata-san. Kaede's tattoos are more than usual, but hey. The needles used to limn our credentials and heritage actually felt good." He smiled wider, if possible. "I'm sure it's just as fun to …" Sendoh gestured towards the High Monk's chest, and gave a nod towards the Blacksmith. "Wear your tokens of birthright."

Sendoh enjoyed getting his tattoos? True, there were some who see them more as a pleasure than obligation, and it did not totally shock him to know that the Hunter was one of them. As for himself, he slept through the whole process; even the sharp sting of a hundred needles digging into his skin would not break the slumber brought by the heat and fumes of the limning-artists' chambers.

"Are you quite finished?" Fujima was asking in an icy tone. He had enough grace to hang his head, but Rukawa saw Sendoh hide a small smile. "We need to know one thing. Well, at least, above most, that is. Your …" he paused, hesitant, but his tone was firm. It was no less delicate for it. "Your mother …"

"Former Viscount Lord of Gentian Meadows, Kogure Kiminobu." Blue eyes dulled to lifeless indigo. "I was six when the plague took him."

"Ah, so Virtuous was successful," Wise shared a meaningful look with Beauty. "The secret was unveiled." He turned to the desolate Prince. "My condolences, child. We did not know."

"I do not think Virtuous-san was completely triumphant in working out the secret," Pretty observed, a finger on his lips. "For how do we account for the plague that took him? Even if it took about five years or so." He shook his head. "He have not equated the power; the balance was upset." At the look Sendoh shot him, he added, "Probably."

"And this secret?" Rukawa looked at them. "How does it concern me?"

"High Dancer Virtuous – or Viscount Kogure, as they know him in his Land – was your mother, correct?" Maki pointed out. "But he is innately male. He had managed to work out the sorcery concerning the finer workings of the flesh, to alter his body …"

"Before you get technical," the Hunter cut in. The Duke acquiesced gracefully, and he continued. "Changing one's body in the extremities and illusion are different from what your 'mother' did. To put it simply, my dear nephew, Virtuous became TRULY a woman, even internally is my meaning, through magic, which had not been accomplished by anyone else. Ever." He held his wrist aloft, and his hawk perched on his arm. His blue eyes were pensive as he stroked the feathers of his preening Companion. "We have been researching it, you know. One left us because he thought the world sheltered the secret." For some reason, Sendoh was deliberately not looking at the High Mage.

The implication of the secret they were searching for finally reconciled itself with the Crown Prince. That still wouldn't explain why Fujima wanted … unless of course, he and the High Lord was an item. Which was already kind of obvious. "And what is it about Slowing and Spirit?"

Kiyota shrugged. "Slowing means that you slow to age physically. It's dependent on how much Spirit you have, and how much you can control at a draw."

"Spirit," Hanagata continued, before Rukawa could formulate a question, "is present in every one of us, aristocrat or no. The smallest amount of spirit allows a soul to dwell in the body. A moderate amount allows a body to survive without a soul for a certain amount of time. A little more would allow a person to talk to … well, spirits."

Beauty now took up the lecture. "And a lot more makes one acutely aware of the world, and so, the Goddess, the Lady of the Hearth, calls upon those people to serve her and the world." His gesture took in the other six. "As we do. Only those possessing enough Spirit can be privy to jobs wherein we could assist the Goddess."

"And you, beautiful boy," Sendoh put in, beaming at him proudly, "have an enormous amount of Spirit at your disposal, and have not begun to Slow, which portends that you are very strong. Stronger than we expected." He glanced at the others, and in a stage whisper, added, "Stronger than us, even, but don't let that get into your head."

"Raw power is different from years of honed experience, Sendoh-san," Jin shook his head in disapproval. "Though it matters in prolonged skirmishes, somewhat," he grudgingly admitted. "Not much."

"You all Slowed?" The query seemed stupid and childish to his ears.

"Aren't you taught history, Kaede, or were you sleeping then, hmm?" the High Hunter chided. "Reckon. I told you that I was the sixth son of the former Rose Princess, who happens to be your father's aunt. How old would that make me, as close an approximation as you could?"

The look Milk White gave his uncle was flinty at best. "Thirty-seven, more or less."

Sendoh beamed. "Near enough. I'll be nine and thirty in my next naming day." Fujima rolled his eyes, mouthing the words "How vain could you get" to no one in particular.

"Does he look like that age to you?" Kiyota asked derisively.

Rukawa, refusing to be baited, did not answer. Instead, he turned to the assembly. "Is there anything else you think I should know?" The High Swordsman longed to call him down for his impertinence, but he was the Crown Prince of Topaz, therefore, higher in rank than him, after all.

"Manners, for one." Kiyota stifled his glee as his Master spoke. "Along with my Apprentice, here." That made him scowl, and Maki patted him on the head as he would an irascible pet that amused him. "For another, your parents history among us."

"Finally, you must be taught suitably, as one with similar talents would have been." Hanagata put in. And as an afterthought, "I hope that you trust us enough to tell us of your tale?"

The Rose Princess assented graciously. "As you wish. My mother was taken from us by a plague twelve years ago. I scarcely remember anything but the screams." He paused for breath; the Viscount wondered how difficult for Kaede speaking was, while he himself could not keep silent most of the time. "His body was preserved in an ice mausoleum. After a few years or so, Father married Baroness Fuuji. She was behind the assassination attempts against me, for no reason other than I am my parents' son, I suppose. So, I escaped."

"Mage Shy, hmmm?" At the confused look, Beauty elucidated. "Baroness Fuuji. She was one of Kogure's close friends, though she didn't train with us. Poor girl. She hadn't the aptitude to progress any further than Low Mage, so when Viscountess Kogure decreed her son to expand his learning, Fuuji did not accompany him." He frowned thoughtfully. "She's not evil, not the slightest, nor is she ambitious. A fault, really, but at least … well, anyway, from what I've seen, Naughty is not her type, if it's only about love and all. So this doesn't make sense. And, more intriguing, is that there had been no mention of High Knight Spiky, Naughty's Protector. Hasegawa Kazushi." At Rukawa's blanker than usual look, Fujima nodded. "See? I was right; you don't know Kazushi, which makes this whole affair … in a term, mystifying."

Miyagi nodded empathically. "Tell me about it. _That_ one would follow Creaky Knees to hell and back, and back again."

Creaky Knees, from the sound of it, Rukawa reckoned, pertains to his father, King Hisashi.

"Or of Naughty's other Protector, Koshino Hiroaki. High Crusader Cross." Maki glanced sidelong at the suddenly silent High Hunter. "They trained with us here, along with Hisashi. Though, for a surety, Hasegawa didn't know that Koshino was a Protector of Hisashi. Nonetheless, they would side with you, undoubtedly, as they have served the King."

Somewhat startled, Rukawa blinked rapidly. "Captain Koshino of the Knights of Heaven? He was the one who told me to come to you." He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't know that he was Father's Protector."

"True, we do not mean you any harm, even if we didn't know who you were," Jin was saying when Sendoh cut in. "Neither did we, Kaede. Not until they have been with us for three years. Not until Hisashi himself told us." The High Hunter challenged the others with a pained look. "Just tell him."

Rukawa stared at them, until Miyagi spoke, relenting. "King Hisashi's mother, his father's third cousin, as you well know, had an older sister. Unbeknownst to many, she was not actually childless as the Royal Family professed her to be. Before she tied the knot with the Count of Daffodil, a few years after your father was born, she had a bastard son by a younger cousin. Hiroaki. It, of course, portended not only a scandal, but a threat, so he was raised among the warrior class, the Protectors, bound to serve their Lord loyally."

"But his identity remains a beacon to the enemies, as you can very well imagine, with him being the closest, most tractable possible claimant to the Throne," Maki continued, a wry twist to his words. "With an emphasis to 'tractable'. The King starting to decline, the Queen long dead, the Crown Prince barely of age, and the Rose Princess a bedridden old lady; begging your pardon," the last words were spoken to the Hunter. Sendoh shrugged amiably, and waved for him to go on. "The only reason that a revolt was pointless was because the people are too satisfied with what they have."

"Which makes Hiroaki an important pawn in the game, and mainly why those faithful to the Throne have to, if necessary, forge his loyalty to Hisashi," the High Rogue prompted, trying to get back to the point. When Maki did not take the hint, he continued. "He was ambitious, he was brilliant. He should have been the perfect candidate for a usurper; but he has a high sense of morality and duty, Cross does. But what you can't take, you have to destroy, correct?"

"Hiroaki was not known as Crown Prince Hisashi's cousin, or his Protector. He was the King's Huntsman, sent with Hisashi to train by the virtue of his Spirit." Hanagata dutifully continued the telling. "And here, the Crown Prince met Viscount Kiminobu, already High Archer then. One can say that it was here where they 'fell in love'." He smiled at the current Crown Prince fondly. "Though I recall that Kiminobu tried his damnedest to resist."

Jin laughed outright. "It was a week before my Low Wizard Test. When he learned that Low Bard Naughty was not just any ordinary noble, but the Crown Prince of Topaz, he freaked out. Totally. He near fainted, packed his bags, and left without any warning."

"When Naughty heard of it, he laughed his ass off." Fujima shrugged. "I personally thought he was crazy. He laughed himself to tears and I thought he was going to choke to death or something …"

"And when Virtuous came back, a few days later, he was calm and composed," the Duke told Kaede. "He demanded, politely, for Hisashi to come down and please explain himself immediately. Hisashi did, and he was crying, and he said, 'Min-kun, I missed you, damn it.' And Kiminobu was just … staring at him as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. Then, he opened his arms, and the rest, as they say, is history."

The Hunter shook his head. "I've heard about the stories that proliferated about your parents, kid." Sendoh snorted in disdain, which ruffled the feathers of his hawk. "It's nothing next to the real thing; with your father sobbing, Virtuous not keeping up to his nickname and them almost getting it on in the living room. We still have the video of that thing, I think." Azure eyes seemed startled when Maki cleared his throat, carefully not looking at the blushing Milk White. "Yes. Well. As I was saying … don't believe the 'six-month courtship' thing or any of it. And don't believe that all Hisashi wanted was an legitimate heir, or that that was the reason why they had to work out the secret."

Rukawa nodded, his blushes now at bay. Of course. Everything made sense. Almost. The only thing left that bothered him was, since his fathers truly loved each other from their accounts, why did the King remarry to Baroness Fuuji, when nothing would be achieved from their union? There were no lands to placate, no tribes to unite, no rioting factions. Unless he wanted another heir? But he had already named his son Rose Princess and Crown Prince, so there really is no point. Though it certainly boosted the morale of the populace, the masses were now suffering with the Queen's neglect and the King's frequent absences to colonize more land.

As if reading his mind, the High Seat of Fujima spoke up. "Kaede. You can't change anything at your present condition. Facing Low Mage Shy is out of the question. You need to gather your wits and your strengths. You need to understand the nature of the problem, so to speak, before you tackle it." He smiled. "High Crusader Cross sent you to us for your safety. And that, we will provide."

"You know what to do." Ryouta pushed a sheet of paper across the table, handing Milk White the pencil. "Take the test, kid. We'll support you all the way."

Seven pairs of eyes regarded him seriously. "Good luck."

"**I** don't need to know every tiny detail of your sordid sex life!" Halfway through the sentence, the King's Protector, Hiroaki, stifled his screech to a venomous hiss. The glare he gave his cousin was fatal.

Hisashi gave his cousin a patient look, which made the other, he knew, even more irritated than before. "Actually, Kosh, you do. Because as long as you keep Fuuji delirious with pleasure," the King punctuated his words with a suggestive smile and a vulgar hand gesture Hiroaki did not even know existed, but at once recognized for what it symbolized, "she'd forget about _my_ son." His dark blue eyes turned steely. "Which I trust is in good hands, hmmm?"

"Unless you think there are better live hands (other than yours and mine) than those of your cousin's from the other branch," Koshino retorted.

"Ah. Of course not." Mitsui's expression softened. "You miss Akira, don't you?"

"What!" His scowl was firstly, because of the comment, secondly because of the volume his voice reached. "Why would I miss that asshole? He's even more perverted than you are, and that's saying something, _your Majesty._"

"Yes, I know." Mitsui grinned wolfishly. "You miss Akira because he _is_ an asshole, and because he's more perverted than I am. And you love him in spite of those, among other things." He only laughed at the indignant spluttering that incited. "Don't bother denying it, Kosh. That's an order from your King."

"Actually," Koshino muttered as his cousin prodded him to the mirror, "I'm your King now, you depraved sod."

Turning a critical eye on his cousin's bared back, he reached for his guitar, cheerfully ignoring all other unconstructive comments. "Kosh, I need to redo the markings on you back. I mean, my back. Hell, you know what I mean. Just come here, and no complaining."

Acquiescing with ill grace, the Crusader lay on his stomach obediently enough to suit the King, who played several chords as he hummed. The Royal Tattoos were vivid against the clean slate of Koshino's back. After a while, he stepped back admiringly, whistling. "I am so sexy!" Mitsui crowed softly to his guitar.

"Not to mention vain," Koshino added, sitting up, and making a face. Hisashi shook an admonishing finger at his cousin, who just stared at him bemusedly. "What!"

"Don't frown! It makes me look my actual age." And just to spite him, the Protector did the exact opposite. "Kosh! I order you as your King to stop frowning!"

"Dare you give me orders?" Koshino scowled ferociously, looking older than one and forty, the King's true age. A feat, considering that his cousin's physical body was only twenty summers old. "I am the King now, and I can frown as much as I please, supplicant."

"KOSH!" Hisashi protested.

Laughing himself sick, the Crusader watched them both at the mirror, mirth slowly subsiding. "Hisashi … where are you going, really?" Hiroaki looked away from his reflection, the borrowed face of the King set in a thoughtful mien. "I'm supposed to protect ..."

"Even you agreed that it would be wiser to keep my destination to myself," Hisashi grinned, tying the considerable length of his hair into a ponytail, grown by the Spirit at an unnaturally fast pace and not illusion. "Come on, cousin. I'm still a High Bard, after all. I can protect myself … as long as nobody knows that I'm no longer enchanted." He glanced at the window; dawn was nigh. "I'd better go, then. How long can you keep up the pretence, hmm?"

The King's Protector eyed the scepter he held, cold to touch, and the simple gold diadem, light upon his brow, heavy on his soul. "As long as I need to."

"I expected no less." Hisashi nodded, singing softly to himself. As he did, the long black air turned wheat-gold, his eyes lightening to sky-blue, tanned skin becoming fair. Only minor alterations, but then, no one would be looking for the King of Topaz in the guest bedrooms, seeking an audience with the sitting monarch, especially when the said King was supposedly marching off to war. "What do you think?"

His cousin's tone was wry. "You still sound like yourself, High Bard Hisashi, though you look like someone's gaijin cousin."

The stranger's face frowned, tongue clicking. "I'm not a High Bard, and my name is not Hisashi." There was a distinct twang in his inflections, which marked him, if not gaijin, raised around gaijin. "I'm an Agent of one of Hisashi's former maestros, here to seek an audience because of an upcoming naming-day of the aforementioned maestro. And when I learn that the King is off to yet another conquest and would not return for several months or so, I will leave immediately." He smiled, taking pity on the stressed out Protector. "For the Jade Forests. I heard that the descendants of the Fox Doctor could heal ailments of the Spirit, and finally rid me of this stupid spell."

"Thank you." There were many holes on that story, but it would serve. "Why couldn't you have taken your Demon Gambler disguise instead? Or the Fire Ninja; no one would dare question that one, I think. Oh, well. Whatever floats your boat." Hiroaki rolled his eyes. His expression grew grave. "Kaede, though …"

"Not yet." The King smiled, tweaking his cousin's nose. "About my sordid sex life, as you put it, as long as you practice tying a knot on a cherry stem, you'd be fine. Oh, and before I forget, don't spit; swallow. Splatter, too."

"I will pretend that did NOT hear that last part." He batted his cousin hands away sullenly. "As for the dexterity of my tongue, Akira made me do the cherry stem-thing every day until I learnt it; I haven't lost the trick of it." He placed his hands on his hips, scowling. "It's not funny, Hisashi, stop laughing. And before you even think it, don't tell me I'm a worrywart or I'll kick your bloody behind!"

"I'm not saying it." Mitsui smiled, shaking his head. "But, you do worry too much, Crusader Kosh. I'd worry more about you – I mean, me – than I do about me – I mean … yeah, me. What? Even I got confused." He moved closer, leaning forward in an air of conspiracy. "By the way, I haven't had a bloody behind in twelve years." Hisashi was cackling evilly when Koshino socked him squarely on the stomach. He doubled over, winded. The High Crusader, half-smug and half-guilty, helped him regain his feet.

"You were supposed to dodge it, you idiot!" he murmured. "Oh, stop laughing, Hisashi, or I'll do it again. Anyway, it's almost dawn."

"Give me a hug for Akira, Kosh." The High Crusader acquiesced, the matter too intense for words. "Be safe."

With that, he pulled the tapestry, revealing a hidden passage to one of the guest chambers, aware of the heavy disapproval from his cousin with every jaunty step.

**THERE** was an insistent knocking on the bolted oaken doors.

Blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, Rukawa looked away from the potion he was brewing, irritated. Two months, give or take several days, had passed since he had the "heart-to-heart" talk with the Seven Thingamajiggers, the thought of which never failed to make him wince mentally. Past is past, though, and with intense and almost obsessive training after that, he was nearly upon his Average Novice Test.

His housemates were all elated with his progress, of course. Though his training was not one of the fastest ever in recorded history, it was rapid enough to cause comment, bearing his situation in mind. Add to that that he was learning the fundamental Skills of other Jobs. Of course he would never be able to forge or perform magic. But appending what he had learned as a Prince to his training now, he was going to be a formidable Assassin. Once he passed the test, anyway, which would not be the case if he had to answer the bloody door every time someone knocks.

"I'll get it," Sendoh stood up, giving the wolf a pat, smiling at the toiling Low Thief who glared at him.

He opened the door, and blinked at the apparition. "Lascivious-san? And Courteous-san? Dozo. What happened?" He muttered a few choice curses. "This is bad. I don't know anything of Curing besides the rudiments, but I …"

"There's nothing you can do, Smiley." Milk White spared the brazen one a glance, mentally applauding. The speaker was standing with his back to him, but by the shade of red of the long hair, a deep burgundy, Milk White would bet his coronet that the guy was half-human and half-demon. "It's with the Spirit." He managed a weak chuckle. "I'd bet even the descendants of the Fox Doctor are in the same state as we are."

Lascivious, was he? The Prince wondered faintly about the nickname, and decided that the world would be better off with him paying more attention to his studies than anything else at the moment.

"What, as if we were hung-over?" The other one, Courteous, was leaning on the wall to stay upright. Rukawa scowled, and so did the redhead, but for different reasons; the green-eyed brunette with Lascivious was a human-demon. There were ki regulators on his ear. "Though I have to admit I haven't been drunk ever in my life. Anyway, Simple is far worse, Shishou."

Why was he calling Sendoh 'master'? Maybe it's a private joke. Milk White doubted if another drop of sweat would make a difference in his already ruined Remedy, but he turned his attention back to the gurgling cauldron.

Lascivious snorted as he helped his companion on the couch. "Of course Impertinent-houshi-sama would have driven on without a backward glance to us if we all dropped dead, and I wouldn't blame that bitchy Monk, but even our Dragon-chan is out of it, and he didn't want to walk the rest of the way."

"Can't play mahjong on your own, too," Smiley added with a wink. "Ne?'

Oh, who cares about them anyway? The Prince doused the fire, transferring the clear liquid to phials. He'd need them for the Test tomorrow. "Well, do you have any idea of what happened?"

The redhead exchanged a meaningful look with Courteous and shrugged. "Your guess is as good as ours. Though I think it had something to do with the Legend of the Chosen of the Fire Phoenix."

"My Master told me that was just myth, nothing more." But it was more of a weak statement, as if Sendoh knew that it wouldn't matter. Apparently, he was right.

Milk White saw that Lascivious was appraising him. He returned the gesture. Yes, a half-demon, half-human, with the same burgundy shade on his irises as his hair. There were two thin scars just below his left eye, paler than his bronze skin.

The High Hunter shook his head at the sight of Rukawa's scowl. "I know how bitable you are, Rukawa-kun; don't worry, they're not our enemies. As for you, my dear Lascivious, my nephew can hear anything you have to say. Out with it, bishounen."

The redhead blinked, then laughed. Courteous placed a hand over his eyes. "Smiley-san, now you've done it. You shouldn't have appealed to his vanity."

"Well, what would you have me do?" the High Hunter shook his head.

Milk White spared an impassive glance at the scene, and returned to his work silently. Sendoh, noting his nephew's apathy, shrugged; as if to say, he couldn't have done anything about it.

"You've experienced worse, I reckon. You'll live." He then proffered a bottle to their guests. "Saké?"

"Domo." The brunette sighed in gratitude. "Yes, that's true. It's a blessing that we can still move. I shudder to think on what Impertinent would do if this goes on longer than the decreed length of time."

"Can't do anything about it, so just ignore it." The redhead tipped a cigarette on his lip, every motion grating him, and glanced at Milk White, who gave him permission by ignoring him, concentrating on sifting the non-incendiary crystals. Sendoh lit the end of the cigarette. Lascivious laughed. "You and that bitchy Monk would get along just perfectly, kid. Oi, Bajie, best you tell it."

Rukawa frowned, but not because of the degenerative term, capping the phial where he stored his powdered antidote. He was sure he heard that name somewhere. "Remember the Chosen of the Fire Phoenix? The two that paired up."

Sendoh made a face. "The Traveling Monk and the Phantom Bandit?"

"Those were the two who survived," Milk White muttered under his breath. "Ahou."

"Not quite, Smiley." Lascivious, who heard the Crown Prince's comment, snickered. "Though they _did_ end up together."

"Hn." Sendoh frowned thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, I remember. The Vain Emperor and the Willful Courtesan." He raised his eyebrows. "I thought it was only Ryouta who conjured that, with Toru and Soi-kun, too. Anyway, before any of them intervened, I was under the impression that the Emperor and the Courtesan had a one-way relationship."

Milk White, if he were the type, would have grunted, as he set out his store of poisons for inventory.

The redhead snorted a fine trail of smoke. "Is that what they teach in this country?"

He shook his head. "No, but that's what my Master taught me. He was a secluded boor, bless his evil heart for it. Never mind. Anyway, even if what you say is true, which I believe it is, they never got together, right? Because when the Willful Courtesan was killed, the Vain Emperor married, had a son, and died shortly after. The Dowager Empress ruled the country in her son's stead."

Milk White perked up at that. It was said that Topaz Fields and Jade Forests was once known as the southern country blessed by the Fire Phoenix, though the Dowager Empress was not his ancestor.

"Yes and no. Or should I say, 'that's all true, but there's something more to it'?" Bajie sipped his tea. "The contemporary story never told us how the Dowager Empress came to be. The Appendices tell us that she and the Vain Emperor have known each other as much as two years before the appearance of the Maiden, which is illogical –"

"And bullshit." Sendoh raised his eyebrows. "I know you won't use such a crude word, Bajie, but it's the most accurate term for it, after all. My Master might have misinformed me, but try living with Miyagi for three years." He shuddered. "Or Soichirou. They still have occasional shouting matches against Shin'ichi on that subject." Sendoh made a wave with one hand. "Well, carry on."

"True," Courteous agreed. "Anyway, the point is that the Dowager Empress is a body made to house the soul of the Willful Courtesan's younger sister. A body, they say, wrought by the Fox God, Inari. It was, of course, done without the knowledge of the Fire Phoenix, and it thwarted the plans of the Water Dragon."

The redhead gestured with his cup, a slight jerk; the pain must be nigh unbearable, but he didn't let it show. "Inari and the other gods were supposed to be neutral, when the circumstances were in the Universe of the Four Gods; so that no god would be intervening where he's not supposed to. So when the Blue Dragon pleaded for justice, it was granted to him."

"Reincarnation," the brunette continued, shrugging. "Of a sort. It was the Inari's descendants who were punished, for they knew of Inari's plan, and condoned it."

"Hmmm." In spite of himself, Sendoh's curiosity was piqued. "They all would be intrigued by this for sure, even Shin'ichi, I daresay. What manner of reincarnation would that be, anyway?"

"Nine cycles of the story of the Vain Emperor and the Willful Courtesan, writ by other hands, with the fox spirit bound to the role of the Willful Courtesan, though ignorant of its purpose. If they fail, perdition for all of Inari's line. Or so it is said." Courteous smiled. "A good tale, yes? But I have read of other good tales which support this legend."

"One of which," Lascivious punctuated with his cigarette stub, "is that when the fox-spirit component awakens, and is made aware that it IS a fox spirit, demons of all kinds suffer for a moon cycle."

"Harsh," the High Hunter commented, "to think that all demons suffer for a single god's folly. Though, from what I conclude, it's not only a tale, but truth."

"Another 'good tale'," the redhead nodded to his friend, "I've heard is that when a human kills a thousand demons, he will become a demon himself."

"Also, that an offspring of a pure demon and a pure human would have eyes and tresses the color of sunset, awash in blood." Courteous raised his eyebrows. "Do you doubt it?"

"No," Sendoh said wryly, with a dry look at the two. "Of course not." He stood up. "That means you have to pause your journey for a while, am I right, gentlemen?" He laughed. "I could just imagine the ruckus Sanzang made. Miyagi will be passing glad to see you; he –"

"Kazushi!"

It took a while for Milk White to recognize the voice, and when he did, he frowned. What's up with Fujima, shouting like that? And Kazushi … wasn't Kazushi his father's protector? It seemed as if he had heard that name from somewhere … he was a High Knight, so it would be logical if he became a Knight of Heaven. But what was he doing here?

Kiyota entered the room at dead run, almost upsetting Rukawa's Assassin paraphernalia. "Sendoh-san! It's Hasegawa-san!" He leaned on his knees, hunched over as he tried to catch his breath. He blinked confusedly at the sight of the guests, but regained his composure instantly. "Bajie-san, Wujing-san, an honor to meet you at last."

Lascivious, who must have been Wujing, along with Courteous, murmured the appropriate response. The brunette added, "Nobunaga-kun, what was that about? Is Kazushi here?" He exchanged a meaningful look with the redhead. "Shouldn't he be with Naughty? I heard that Topaz is marching to war beyond this continent."

My father wouldn't do that, Milk White thought automatically, discretion making him silent. For some reason he could not fathom, he looked at the drained visitors on the sofa. He did not notice Sendoh and Kiyota conversing in hushed tones on the corner, with the High Hunter gesturing furiously.

The redhead's face was set in a grimace. "There's something wrong."

"A demonic ki, not a human one, wasn't it?" Bajie said, turning with a sharp glance at Rukawa. "Hide, Prince." Kaede remained where he was. "Run!"

But Rukawa couldn't move. Sendoh, flanked now by the wolf, grasped his upper arm and hauled him up and away, past the grim High Swordsman, who edged toward the door. With a colorful string of expletives, he turned the knob.

"Crown Prince Kaede!" The shout was made by a voice Kaede did not know. A man stepped in the house, looking about, spotting the High Hunter, who was standing next to the hidden Rose Princess.

"Kazushi! What happened?" Sendoh walked towards the man, drawing his attention away from Kiyota, who slipped away to call for reinforcements. Cold sticky sweat trickled down the side of Kaede's face as he listened intently to the telltale sounds of people walking.

"Akira, well met." They clasped hands. "It's been a long time."

"Kazushi, likewise. What brings you here?"

Silence stretched unbearably. It seemed a long time had passed, when his rational thought knew that it was mere seconds.

"I come with bad news, I fear. Hisashi is dead, Akira." Hasegawa was saying as the High Hunter approached him slowly. "And so is Hiroaki." Lascivious and Courteous lay immobile on the sofa, unheeded. The High Swordsman, it seemed, was taking his sweet damn time. Milk White mentally cursed him.

Sendoh, predictably, was stopped in his tracks. "Hiroaki? Dead? How?"

"He was judged guilty of treason for killing the King." The High Knight shook his head. "I'm sorry, Akira. I know you wouldn't want to believe me, but it's true. It broke my heart, truly. The Princess-Consort – the Queen, now – would step down in favor of Prince Kaede, and sent me to look for him. I need to talk to the Crown Prince, but not only because I speak in the behalf of the current Regent. I think Hisashi would like that, to let Prince Kaede pay his respects before the burial, and take the mantle of responsibility as soon as possible."

Knowing that the Hasegawa was lying – he should be lying! – Rukawa dared a peek, deep blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.

It was someone he remembered, if faintly, from years back. The Prince-Consort's delighted smile, the King's laugh, and the figure that stood guarding both, wearing the face of the man talking to his uncle.

The man, if he recalled correctly, who had died when the plague that took his 'mother' swept their land; Hasegawa Kazushi, the former Captain of the Knights of Heaven, his father's Protector.

The image wavered; a smoke-filled shadow. Sendoh a boneless heap with staring eyes, was lifeless before his feet. "Enough games."

Too fast for him to follow, too sudden for anyone to react, the High Knight threw his dagger point blank between Kaede's eyes. A clink of metal against metal; reflex made him duck. A silvery haze from the dagger penetrated the energy barrier shielding him. Off-target, it grazed Rukawa's temple.

Of Hasegawa, there was no trace.

Cursing, Lascivious went, retracing Kiyota's steps, not wasting grunts and whines on his agony. As Milk White lay on the floor, insensible, Bajie fought the torment of moving and tried to reach him, and heal him with his ki.

There were two others who arrived at the Prince's side before he did. One was dressed in dark blue, laden with prayer-seals; the other was in simple robes of a Sage. "Akira," the Sage (of undeterminable caste) called to the unconscious High Hunter, "Come back. Don't bother chasing him." When there was no response, he clucked his tongue, and addressed his companion. "Star Seeker, the sixth channel on Akira's neck, please."

"Sensitive, Smiley won't like it," Star Seeker said, but he was already moving towards Sendoh. Before he could turn him over, however, the High Hunter came to, gasping for breath.

By this time, Bajie was beside Rukawa, had remembered that the Sage was Marquis Fukuda Kiccho of Opal Marshes, and was helping the aforementioned noble to restore Kaede's awareness. He shook his head. "It's of the Spirit. I can't siphon it without damaging –"

"Courteous-san, you're going to be obstinate about this, too, wouldn't you?" Sensitive asked rhetorically. "Well, never mind that. No, we'll just tie it off for a while, and put a block …" he trailed off, and saw that Sendoh was again trying to enter a trance, to search for the treacherous Hasegawa's spirit. "Akira, stop being stubborn; you won't be able to find Hasegawa, so don't waste your strength, or I'll sit on you. Call them."

"No need." Hanagata was carrying Fujima in his arms, looking worse for wear, while Kiyota and Maki were keeping each other up. Miyagi was propped up by Lascivious, and Jin has an arm on Moon Flower's shoulder. "How is he?"

"He'll live," Sensitive answered shortly, as the High Monk joined in the healing, with the High Wizard and High Mage. "At this rate, he'll reach the critical point after ten days. After that …"

"We need an Alchemist. Aya-chan … she can help," Miyagi said as he helped the furious High Hunter to his feet. "We have to leave this place." He turned to Lascivious and Courteous. "I'm sorry for this …"

The redhead shook his head. "Never mind. Make the preparations. We'll stay with Rukawa, until you can find a place where to hide him."

"Right under their noses," came a weak suggestion, from the bundle of dissatisfaction in the High Monk's arms. Fujima kicked feebly. "Let me speak, Toru. Please," this time, directing it to Lascivious and Courteous, "we could take up other identities that we have established as a prudent groundwork for us, in Topaz Fields itself." No one argued. Other than the fact that they looked as if all heart were beaten out of them, it was a good idea as any. "Are there no objections?" Only Kiyota bothered to mouth the, "No" at all.

"Adjourned." The crisp tone belied the near-collapse of the High Blacksmith as he inched his way to his room, exhausted. Maki staggered, and the High Swordsman faltered under the dead weight of his body.

Sparing a disgusted look at them, Fukuda bid Moon Flower to attend to them while he administered to Kaede's well being. When he himself was offered respite, he declined, and meticulously persisted in nursing the Rose Princess.

"Fukky."

Sensitive woke with a jolt, for a moment out of sorts. He then remembered that he was in the Guild Chapter in Sapphire Islands, and that he had fallen asleep while watching over his wounded charge. Berating himself, he took stock of his surroundings.

Everyone had withdrawn; Rukawa lay on a pallet on the floor, swathed with blankets, with only the High Mage and High Sage for company. Bajie, sitting across the table from the lightly snoring Wujing, had he been awake, was still too far to hear anything.

"Fukky," Jin repeated, "It's been a long time."

"Seventeen years," Sensitive agreed, watching the steady movement of the Rose Princess's respiration. "I've missed you, Jin-jin."

The High Mage smiled wistfully, his gaze off to the dark huddled figures of their housemates, who opted to sleep on the den for the night. "Thank you. I needed to hear that." Carefully not looking at Fukuda, he spoke softly. "Ne … do you remember? You made me a promise."

"Yes. I haven't forgotten." At those words, the fingers that were patting at his dreadlocks stilled. "Jin-jin …"

"You're here." His breathing hitched. "You really are here, Fukky. Gods above, I had always …" Jin parted his lips, leaning towards the High Sage as he did, face tilted and eyes closed. He opened his mouth … and yawned.

Fukuda rolled his eyes at the inopportune timing. The world was, beyond doubt, cruel and unjust. "As soon as the danger passes, I'll tell you all of it."

Jin's blue eyes glittered. "And if it doesn't?"

"Then it wouldn't matter." He tried to smile, but it wasn't convincing enough. "Besides," Sensitive laced their fingers together, "we have now."

"Yes, we do." The High Mage couldn't refute that, and, eventually, fell asleep, head cradled in the High Sage's lap.

"**HANAMICHI**, your older brothers are …" the young demon trailed off as he saw what his friend was doing. "Are you insane! Hanamichi, our powers are deteriorating and yet you took ONE MORE patient?" He shook the redhead by the shoulders. "Why don't you just kill yourself swiftly and be done with it?"

Hanamichi shrugged his friend off, grinning. "Youhei, you _actually _let my older brothers use you as a messenger?" the jade beads in his long red locks tinkled sweetly as he shook his head. "Give me a moment to recover from shock."

Blue eyes flashed. "Very funny, Hanamichi." The enraged Youhei swept his hand across the laboratory, the soft glow of dimmed lights and the low hum of machinery. "If I have to remind you, these things feed off YOUR energy, and strongest Summoner or no, you're not God." He sighed. "And you're also not listening to me."

"Hmm?" Continuing his rounds, the redhead ignored his friend, who stalked after him. Hanamichi felt for his patient's vitality; satisfied, he smiled and moved on to the next tube. It contained a human. Brown eyes narrowed in concentration. It was the most recent of his patients, having arrived at the complex three days ago. Long blue-black tresses floated in the clear fluid, the electric blue eyes were half-mast, and wires twined around the immersed body, piercing Spirit channels. This one was corrupted … his mind was subverted and clouded. It would take some time, considering that he had others to attend to, not to mention the demands of his older brothers, and of his father.

He laid his hands on the glass, feeling the vital signs of the human through the liquid and crystal. Strong. The problem of the Spirit nagged him. Maybe if he used some of his Spirit to channel to the man and augment the passageways so that …

Hanamichi had quite forgotten that his friend was with him. Youhei gasped when he saw the human, and not because of the wires, the nakedness, or the mere presence of his patient. The blue-eyed demon shook the redhead, breaking his contact with the vessel.

"Hanamichi! Stop!" he almost shrieked. "That much Spirit is more than enough to kill a B-class demon, let alone a mere human. Are you insane? And in that rate, you are going to be drained of Spirit, your flesh will wither!" Youhei looked at the concerned brown eyes, and softened his tone, though his words were no less harsh than before. "Don't do it, Hanamichi. It's not worth it."

The Summoner bit his lip; resolve hardening as he gazed at his patient's relaxed visage in the vessel of fluid. "Maybe you're right, Youhei, you usually are. But," he laid his palms flat on the cool surface, "I know I can do this. I have a pride in my craft." He shrugged. "If I die, then so what? Father has other children."

Seeing that he could not be deterred, Youhei sighed, rolling his eyes. He couldn't help poking fun into his friend, for he said, "Are you so ready to die, Hanamichi? You haven't got laid yet."

Brown eyes blazed in righteous anger. "And what's that supposed to mean!"

"Exactly what it meant." His friend opened his hands, shrugging, offering a smile.

It took a while, but his wrath lapsed, and he only shook his head in disappointment. "There's nothing more to be accomplished here," he said, at once apologetic and defiant. "I'd keep him under observation for five days, then I can begin to work the problem out. I'd probably have to …" he spared Youhei the details, and instead, asked, "What did my brothers say?"

"They want you to go to Topaz, Hanamichi," he answered somberly, watching as perfect ire blanketed any other emotion. "Your father accedes."

"_Why_?"

Waves of Spirit buffeted Youhei; the redhead was doing it unknowing. "Because." He took a deep breath. "That was where the vortex of the Spirit-illness lay."

To be continued.

11:47 PM 11-10-2005

Author's Notes:

**_Gaijin_** – Foreigner

**_Dozo _**– Go ahead (or something to that extent.)

**_Ki _**– Energy

**_Shishou _**– Master

**_Houshi-sama_** – Lord Monk

**_Ne _**– Hey/Right

**_Bishounen _**– pretty boy

**_Saké _**– traditional Japanese rice wine

**_Domo _**– Thank you

**_Ahou _**– Stupid

**_Inari _**– God of fertility. The fox is sacred to him.

**_High Sage Sensitive_** – Fukuda Kiccho

Sanzang (Impertinent), Wujing (Lascivious) and Bajie (Courteous) are Sanzou, Gojyo and Hakkai, respectively. References of the insomnia thing with Maki and Sendoh are from Gensomaden Saiyuki's last episode, and therefore, along with those three and Simple (Goku), do not belong to me.

Moon Flower and Star Seeker are Kazuki and Juubei, respectively, from Get Backers. They are, respectively, a Sohee and a Bongun.

Mitsui's other 'disguises' are characters from other animé, who share the same voice actor: Tomoka of Shin Hakkenden (Demon Gambler), Kurei of Recca no Honou (Fire Ninja), and K of Gravitation (his final disguise).

The Fire Phoenix, the Water Dragon, and other references are from Fushigi Yuugi, which is, yet again, not mine.

My utmost gratitude to the people who were the motivation for this fic, and of course, to those who reviewed.


End file.
